Minefield
by apprenticebard
Summary: In which Aya and Razer disarm mines and talk about viruses instead of their feelings. Missing scene set between "Lost Planet" and "Reckoning".


They find the minefield a few days after leaving planet Mogo. Razer suggests they do the sensible thing and fly around it, but each bomb has the Red Lantern Corps insignia on it, and Aya points out that they are complex devices containing computer data and possible information about their enemies. Razer is forced to confirm it. After that, Hal Jordan is insistent that they see whether the bombs can tell them Shard's current location, or at least point them in the right direction. As if that isn't bad enough, he's also insisted that they disarm the entire field if at all possible. Razer is half-convinced he will hold the same opinion if it turns out they have to disarm every mine manually. Pointless heroism has never been so boring.

At least he gets to work with the computer this time. Hal and Kilowog have none of the necessary skills, and have instead decided to take the ship and try collecting information from one of the nearby inhabited planets. Aya's presence is... tolerable, comparatively speaking.

They spend several minutes in absolute silence before she tries to start a conversation. "I apologize for attacking you."

Razer hisses, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand instead of looking up at her. The disarming sequence is not complicated, at least by his standards, but that doesn't change the fact that one wrong move could easily lead to getting his face blown off. "It is not a good idea to have important conversations while disarming bombs."

"Oh," she says. It seems this possibility had not occurred to her. "I understand. Both are high-risk activities which require intense amounts of focus, so it would be unwise-"

" _Aya_."

"Apologies."

Razer breathes a sigh of relief when she doesn't continue. He ignores her until he's opened up the mine's central computer, then allows her to take over. She presses her palm to the terminal, stares into space for a few seconds, then activates her comm. "The first bomb has been successfully disabled. I have also recovered several files that may contain useful information."

"Good job, guys," says Hal. From the background noise, it sounds like he's at least managed to locate some sort of settlement. Razer can't help but hope that the Green Lanterns are doing something more useful than disarming mines in the middle of nowhere.

"Thank you," says Aya. She nearly always thanks people for compliments, at least when she recognizes them as such. Razer wonders, idly, whether that's a programmed or learned response. "It will take some time for me to decrypt the files in their entirety. Two point six one minutes should be sufficient."

"That's fine, Aya. Let me know what you find out." The transmission ends. They are alone again.

"Your skill is enviable," says Razer.

Razer is almost certain that Aya doesn't have to focus her full attention on any task unless it's immediately dangerous, and often not even then. Sure enough, she responds without delay. "I could not have disabled it without your assistance."

 _You also look fine._ It's not impossible that the habit of returning compliments is also pre-programmed, but he can't remember her doing it before that, and it's a much more complex skill.

"You wanted to talk about something?"

"Yes," she says, sounding faintly relieved. (Did the guardians program in all the various subtle tones of voice she uses, or has she picked them up one by one from conversation? How much of her manner is pre-determined? Why does he keep wondering these things?) "I wanted to apologize for attacking you on planet Mogo."

Razer frowns. "Why?"

Aya doesn't miss a beat. "My observations of sentient organic life forms have indicated that when one does harm to another, an apology is called for. Am I wrong?"

"As a general rule, no." Razer has his doubts about how much the custom is worth, but he isn't going to lie to her. "But this is different. You were not in control of your actions."

"Perhaps, but-"

"There is no 'perhaps'," he snaps. "You can't be held accountable for something you had no control over. Didn't Hal explain this to you when you tried to apologize to him?"

"I have not yet spoken to him about what transpired."

That part doesn't make sense. There's no reason she should come to him before Jordan. For that matter, there's no reason she should make individual apologies at all, even if she doesn't understand that no apology is necessary. Surely she doesn't believe that failing to stop the ship from attacking them- while she was immobilized, likely unconscious, and lying on the floor of the Interceptor, mind you- is such a terrible thing that any of them might refuse to forgive her. If anything, they should be concerned about her. Drusa's intrusion was surely a far greater injury to Aya than to the rest of them.

Razer pauses at that thought. He's not actually sure whether anyone discussed it with her afterwards, and it's the sort of thing that just might cause lasting harm to a person. Then again, Aya isn't exactly a person. She is not truly intelligent or capable of independent thought or emotion in the first place. Drusa merely replaced the Guardians' code with something else, and if that's unethical, they might as well worry about the rights of the mines they're disabling. Aya cannot be said to have rights, be they to privacy or autonomy or continued existence. Even Razer forgets that sometimes, what with Hal constantly treating her like a fourth member of the crew, but it must be true. It's not a violation if Aya doesn't have boundaries to violate.

 _For future reference, when in my physical form, I prefer not to be pushed into the dirt._

Razer sighs. Things were simpler when he built mines. He looks back at her, and finds that she's no longer waiting for him to respond.

"The decryption is complete," says Aya, switching the comm back on. "The mines do contain information on Shard's location and path of travel, although it appears to be several weeks out of date. In addition, I believe we can deactivate the entire minefield from a specific point."

"Excellent work, Aya," says Hal, sounding exactly like someone's easily-impressed and overly-proud father. "Can you pinpoint the exact location you need to be at to shut everything down?"

"I believe so. It should be noted that disarming the primary mine will be a complex operation. We are likely to encounter a vast array of defenses, including-"

"No worries, Aya. I have total faith in you." The line goes dead again. Razer's power ring glows somewhat brighter than before.

"The primary mine is in this direction," says Aya, voice flat. She propels herself further into the minefield, and Razer follows silently. The mine she leads him to looks exactly like all the others.

"Are you certain this is it?" asks Razer. He doesn't want to waste time disabling more mines than he has to, not when each carries with it some small amount of risk.

"My sensors indicate a .002% chance that the mine is a decoy," says Aya. "That said, your analysis may be of use here."

"Oh?"

Machines don't get offended. It would serve no purpose if they did. Still, there's something in Aya's expression that suggests a certain level of disapproval. "You have stated on previous occasions that you were in a position of authority with regard to setting traps for Green Lanterns. You have indicated advanced familiarity with these devices, and are aware of how dangerous they are. You must be equally aware that withholding information on their defenses at this stage would put both of us in danger."

Razer can't even think of a proper response for a solid five seconds. "Is that an accusation?"

"No. Intentional betrayal would be inconsistent with your previous actions." Razer can't decipher the emotion behind that remark, if there is any. "It has simply come to my attention that my own programming is not without its vulnerabilities. As I cannot deactivate the device without rendering myself susceptible to any viruses or defense mechanisms it may have, it seems prudent to determine the level of danger before proceeding. If you have any relevant information as to the capabilities of this device, it is your responsibility to offer it at this time."

"It's a mine!" He gestures to it, as though she might have missed this fact. The object is momentarily bathed in faint red light. "They're designed to be produced cheaply and deployed en masse, and anyone with any sense would know to leave them alone. They're completely useless for subterfuge, and if you honestly think the Red Lanterns would go to the trouble of creating minefields laden with top-of-the-line viruses specifically to lure in unsuspecting nav computers, then you're twice the fool that Jordan is!"

Aya blinks at him. Razer realizes, belatedly, that she's been trying to decode his reactions in much the same manner that he's been trying to decode hers, and likely with as little success. "Then you do not believe the device presents a similar level of danger to Drusa's machines."

"No." His ring flickers out; he understands. "The Red Lanterns have many resources at their disposal, but they don't have anything close to Drusa's technology. Even if they wanted to control you with a virus, they wouldn't know where to begin."

"In that case, I see no reason not to continue." Her tone is lighter now, relieved. Razer wonders what it would be like, to be so completely defenseless against a particular attack. He tries to remember what it was like, before the ring. The feeling of powerlessness, of being unable to protect those he loved, was in many ways what led him to Atrocitus in the first place. To a certain extent he's still in that position- their mission is hopeless, and he's been well aware of it for some time- but he is not so vulnerable to any single attack as Aya is.

Aya is still looking at him, waiting patiently for him to do his part.

In the end, the primary mine is not much more heavily defended than the other. It takes him about twenty minutes to safely open it up, and perhaps a minute for Aya to finish deactivating it and downloading all the relevant data. Hal Jordan congratulates them for the third time, and Razer is torn over whether to be irritated or not. As ridiculous as it gets sometimes, there's something to be said for a leader who tries to notice and reward the efforts of his subordinates.

"So it's shut down? No more explosions?"

"That is correct," answers Aya. "The minefield is now approximately as dangerous as any naturally occurring asteroid field."

"And when you say it like that, I'm somehow less eager to fly in there and pick you two up."

The transmission is interrupted by something that sounds suspiciously like pottery breaking, and Razer can hear Kilowog yelling something unintelligible in the background. Hal doesn't seem particularly worried. Then again, he never does.

"Do you require assistance?" asks Aya.

"Nah, we're fine. We do have a few loose ends to tie up down here, though. If you guys are done, how about you two fly back to the planet and meet up with us here? You do remember where the planet is, don't you?"

"I am a navigational computer," says Aya, voice tinged with what might be amusement.

Hal Jordan actually laughs. Razer can hear something else breaking in the background. "Right, right. I forget sometimes. I'll see you soon."

Aya leads them out of the minefield without incident, and the two of them head towards the planet. With nothing left to occupy him, Razer's mind drifts back to its earlier questions. For a while, he considers them silently, but eventually he reaches a point where he can't understand any more without additional input.

"Aya." She immediately turns her attention to him, waiting for him to continue. Razer speaks the next words carefully, mindful of their weight. "If the mines had contained a virus similar to Drusa's, what would have happened?"

"You would have alerted me," says Aya, without hesitation. There is no uncertainty in that statement, and Razer wonders what he's ever done to earn so much of her trust. "I would then have recommended that we postpone the operation until the return of Green Lanterns Hal and Kilowog."

"But if I were unable to warn you? If I didn't realize the full extent of the minefield's defenses?"

Something hardens in her expression. "I rely on the same data regardless of whether I inhabit the ship or my physical form."

That statement is interesting, if confusing- there must be some other program that governs the Interceptor's regular functions, or Aya wouldn't be able to travel so far from it. Clearly, her robotic form is capable of containing her consciousness, and the ship is capable of operating when Aya herself is not present. Her consciousness is currently not present on board the ship, but must instead be operating solely based on whatever electronic components exist within her robotic form. Aya and the ship cannot really be said to be one and the same at this point, which raises the question of what, precisely, Aya actually is. It's obvious that in a matter of mere weeks, she's evolved far beyond her intended purpose of helping the Interceptor navigate the galaxy.

Regardless, it's likely the various systems were programmed by the same person or team of people, and it's not really surprising that they would all have the same vulnerabilities. Aya is still speaking of the hypothetical virus, and Razer pushes the rest of these thoughts from his mind. There will be plenty of time for him to consider these mysteries further before their inevitable deaths at the hands of Atrocitus.

"I have not been able to correct for the structural vulnerabilities that Drusa exploited," continues Aya. "If I had encountered a similar weapon here, I would have been unable to defend against it. At that point, my actions would be dictated by the virus itself, or possibly by whatever entity created and controlled it. It would be impossible to predict my actions after that point, but it stands to reason that I would then have done everything in my power to assist the Red Lantern Corps. I would undoubtedly have become a security risk. If you and the Green Lanterns were unable to reverse the effect, it is possible that my existence would have to be terminated in order to ensure the survival of the group."

She does not sound sad. Indeed, where earlier it seemed like some emotion, however subtle, colored every statement, this entire speech is spoken neutrally.

"I see," says Razer, not really sure what else to say. He is not a good person to speak to for reassurance, especially on the subject of death.

"In this particular instance, however, that outcome seems unlikely," says Aya.

"What do you mean?"

"If you were not certain of the device's capabilities, you would have told me."

This, again, is spoken with absolute certainty. She doesn't even bother to ask if she's wrong, as though his intentions are as constant and unchanging as the laws of physics. Razer doesn't even know himself what path he's walking now, but he's certain he isn't the sort of person that others would be wise to declare trustworthy.

Aya seems to disagree.

"I would have told you," echoes Razer, though it's possible it isn't true. He hopes it is.


End file.
